


Of Revenge and Lust

by CeridwenofWales



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vikings, Arranged Marriage, Christian Character, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Marriage Proposal, Rough Sex, Vikings, christian princesses facing temptation, forced bedsharing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-08-01 08:59:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16281581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CeridwenofWales/pseuds/CeridwenofWales
Summary: Eadgyth is the eldest daughter of the late King of East Anglia, but because of her gender, her claim to the throne is meet with suspicion and fear. She tries to rule through Edmund, her younger brother and, for some time, she is able to influence the political decisions within the kingdom. Until the Vikings invade, spreading terror and Edmund is forced to promise Eadgyth’s hand in marriage to one of the leaders of the Great Heathen Army.I'm not following show canon! This work is being inspired by Gesta Danorum in which Ubbe is not Aslaug's sons, being born out of wedlock from a farmer's daughter. It's said Ragnar dressed up as a woman in order to gain access to her chamber. Resulting in the conception of Ubbe.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ifinkufreaky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifinkufreaky/gifts), [grungyblonde](https://archiveofourown.org/users/grungyblonde/gifts).



> [Eadgyth](https://m.name-doctor.com/eadgyth/) derives from the Old English (Anglo-Saxon) “Eadgyð”, composed of two elements: “ēad” (riches or blessed) plus “*gûth / gûdh” (battle, fight). It was a common first name prior to the 16th century, where it fell out of favor. It became popular again at the beginning of the 19th century as Edith.
> 
> There were many noblewomen named Eadgyth during the Anglo-Saxon period, but one of the most famous is [Eadgyth of Wessex](https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eadgyth) whose remains are the oldest found of a member of English royalty.
> 
> In the Gesta Danorum, Ragnar falls deeply in love with a woman whose name Saxo decided not to include. However, we do know her father was called Esbern. Ragnar invites Esbern to many banquets and treats him lavishly to win her favor. This attempt to persuade Esbern and the mention this daughter was seen doing manual work might indicate they were not of high ranking.   
> Esbern realizes Ragnar is trying to win his daughter’s affection and after this point, he has his daughter watched more closely. Ragnar then dresses as a woman, taking on domestic tasks by her side as to not arise suspicion he is, in fact, the King. That night Ragnar makes advances on this woman and she ultimately complies with his wishes.
> 
> It is not long after this that it’s noticed she is pregnant. Esbern is outraged at the fact his daughter has been defiled and asks who was to blame. She insists no one shared her bed but her handmaiden. Esbern decides to accept the child into the family despite being conceived out of wedlock.
> 
> [Vikings: Ragnar Lodbrok and the Women Who Loved Him](https://books.google.com.br/books?id=eExJDwAAQBAJ&pg=PP14&dq=#v=onepage&q&f=false)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Eadgyth](https://m.name-doctor.com/eadgyth/) derives from the Old English (Anglo-Saxon) “Eadgyð”, composed of two elements: “ēad” (riches or blessed) plus “*gûth / gûdh” (battle, fight). It was a common first name prior to the 16th century, where it fell out of favor. It became popular again at the beginning of the 19th century as Edith.
> 
> There were many noblewomen named Eadgyth during the Anglo-Saxon period, but one of the most famous is [Eadgyth of Wessex](https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eadgyth) whose remains are the oldest found of a member of English royalty.
> 
> In the Gesta Danorum, Ragnar falls deeply in love with a woman whose name Saxo decided not to include. However, we do know her father was called Esbern. Ragnar invites Esbern to many banquets and treats him lavishly to win her favor. This attempt to persuade Esbern and the mention this daughter was seen doing manual work might indicate they were not of high ranking.  
> Esbern realizes Ragnar is trying to win his daughter’s affection and after this point, he has his daughter watched more closely. Ragnar then dresses as a woman, taking on domestic tasks by her side as to not arise suspicion he is, in fact, the King. That night Ragnar makes advances on this woman and she ultimately complies with his wishes.
> 
> It is not long after this that it’s noticed she is pregnant. Esbern is outraged at the fact his daughter has been defiled and asks who was to blame. She insists no one shared her bed but her handmaiden. Esbern decides to accept the child into the family despite being conceived out of wedlock.
> 
> [Vikings: Ragnar Lodbrok and the Women Who Loved Him](https://books.google.com.br/books?id=eExJDwAAQBAJ&pg=PP14&dq=#v=onepage&q&f=false)

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Eadgyth didn't want to spend the rest of her days fasting and praying to God to deliver her home from the wrath of the Northmen. If she had been born a man, she would wear the crown instead of her treacherous younger brother. If she was a man, she would be wielding a sword to protect her people and using her wisdom to lead them to glory.

 

For years, Eadgyth lied to herself about not being resentful whenever one of the suggestions she whispered in her brother’s ears were cheerfully welcomed by his noblemen as belonging to Edmund.

_Why does it matter?_   She used to think, applauding and smiling at Edmund. But she could feel the flames stirring inside of her, making her stomach ache and clench in protest as she tried to swallow and extinguish the fire.

 

All she ever wanted was to be her brother’s equal, but now she wanted revenge for the betrayal of her love and trust. Now, she regretted extinguishing the fire that could burn down his kingdom, even if it meant burning herself with East Anglia.

 

There was a sudden jolt and she heard the tinkling coming from the treasure-filled ark in front of her. The chest contained what should have been her dowry. She recalled the moment she had bidden farewell to Edmund with a grimace.

 

“Here it’s to show our appreciation for their generosity to welcome you into their blessed sanctuary.” Edmund had said with a wide smile, opening his arms to embrace her.

 

 _The payment for my chains._ Eadgyth thought, gritting her teeth and feigning a smile. She refused his poisonous embrace, bowing one last time to her brother and turning her back to climb into the carriage that would take her to the nunnery.

 

The gold served as only a reminder to her of the man she had lent her cunningness to, had given her love to, and had it thrown back in her face as he put her aside, the way one does with an old, useless rag. Agony and outrage made for a destructive combination and Eadgyth was drowning in both.

 

The Princess didn't want to use her last minutes of freedom praying because she feared what God would grant her but running her fingers over the cross clasped around her neck was her only distraction as the carriage wobbled through the road.

 

Her brother was a fool for offering her hand in marriage to that savage and even more stupid for changing his mind. Eadgyth knew how easily offended and vengeful the Vikings were. She couldn’t doubt there would be consequences after Edmund’s trick and, in this case, it would be a righteous rage.

 

There was another violent jolt and Eadgyth heard a commotion. She leaned forward to peer out of the small window of the carriage but was thrown against her seat as the horses sped up.

 

“What is happening?” Eadgyth shouted,  _gripping_  a leather strap fastened to the  _carriage_  wall to steady  _herself._

 

“We are under attack!” The coachman replied, and the Princess heard the shouting and clashing of swords behind them.

 

Eadgyth tried to ignore the cold sweat streaming down her spine and think about a way to save them from certain death. She glanced out of the window once more, considering jumping from the wagon and running to the forest. But the trees they rode past were a blur and she would certainly break her neck, trying to escape.

 

The shouts in that harsh, foreign tone were coming closer and Eadgyth closed her eyes, praying for deliverance. The carriage stopped abruptly, and she inhaled deeply, gathering the courage to face her fate.

 

Eadgyth yanked open the door and tried to suppress the whimper as she found herself surrounded by Northmen. Their faces were hidden by the helmets, but she lifted her chin and stared at each one of them as if her eyes had the power to hold them back.

 

One of them dismounted and strode to where she was standing. Her first instinct was to run to the woods, but Eadgyth knew she couldn’t stand a chance against seasoned warriors. She allowed her dagger to slip from her sleeve to her palm.

 

_If I fall, I’m taking at least one of them with me._

The warrior stopped in his tracks for a moment and Eadgyth raised her eyebrows, challenging him to proceed. He removed his helmet, tucking itunder his arm, and the Princess let out a shaky breath.

 

_It’s him!_

She narrowed her gaze on him and Ubbe smirked at her through the sweaty blond hair plastered to his forehead, clearly amused by her anger. He shifted closer and Eadgyth took a warily step back. Her hands were so sweaty and trembling that the dagger slipped from her grasp to the ground.

 

“I don’t share what is mine. Not even with your God.” She tilted her head unable to understand what he said and watched as Ubbe squatted to pick her dagger from the ground, "We don't want you to get hurt, huh?" Ubbe glances up at her, winking.


	2. About Women Who Are Not Afraid Of Wolves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eadgyth prepares the feast for the unwanted guests and tries to inspire her people to be brave in face of the danger. Edmund surprises Eadgyth when it's almost time to welcome the leaders of The Great Heathen Army and the Princess thinks about her role in the wars to come.

 

 

 

The tension was thick around her. Under her attentive eyes, every servant was running around to make sure there were enough ale, food, and seats for the guests. Everything should be perfect to enhance the chances of a peaceful treat between the invaders and her people.

 

“I don't think it's fair that we share our food with those savages!” Eadgyth heard one of the maidens complaining and held her arm. She didn't want to scare the girl, but she trembled and stared at her with wide eyes nonetheless.

 

“The world is almost never fair, Mary! We need to come to terms with them otherwise we will be smashed.” The Princess waited for her words to sink in and processed when she noticed the girl's lips trembling, “We will put on our wider and insincere smiles to convince them that it's for their advantage to have us as allies. The Spring won't last forever and they will need shelter and horses if they intend to reach Northumbria and avenge their father's death.”

 

“Do you think they will spare us?” Mary stammered and Eadgyth ignored how her own hands were sweating.

 

“We must have faith.” Eadgyth hoped Mary couldn't see through the facade of her smile.

 

_Faith and wisdom._

 

The afternoon slipped away while the feast hall was prepared to welcome the unwanted guests. Eadgyth walked through the castle, encouraging and congratulating the servants.

 

She headed to the yard to examine the tents that were erected to accommodate the Norse warriors of lower rank and it didn't pass unnoticed how the people turned to look at her as a child calls for a mother when in terror. Eadgyth smiled and waved for their sake.

 

  

* * *

 

 

 

As the Sun disappears on the horizon, the colors of the sky change gradually from shades of blue and lilac to orange and red. Eadgyth knows some people would say a sunset bathed in red is a terrible omen, but she chooses to believe her ability to negotiate will favor them. And if that's her last sunset, at least it's a majestic sight to behold.

 

The Princess rushes to bath before their arrival. It is important to find the balance point not to look prosperous enough that the Norsemen will envy their wealth and want to take it for themselves, or stricken by poverty that they might doubt her people have something to bargain with.

 

Eadgyth breathes in the floral scent that is coming from the warm water the servants are pouring into the bathtub. She removes her clothes and the feeling of the steam on her skin is inviting and relaxing after an exhaustive day. For a moment, Eadgyth wishes to be a child, so she could sleep peacefully after bathing instead of navigating through the dangers of politics.

 

She slips into the bathtub, allowing the warm water to work its heat into her tired muscles and bones.

 

Eadgyth feels the tension loosening as Mary runs the washcloth over her skin. She leans her head against the edge of the bathtub, closing her eyes and hoping the feast will end with a treat and not bloodshed. Eadgyth feels like she could sleep, but Mary interrupts her fantasy.

 

"It's time to wash out!" Eadgyth groans, stretching her legs and leaning forward. Mary tries to hide her smirk as she pours clean water to rinse off the soap.

 

After the bath, Mary helps Eadgyth to dry her skin and slip into a white chemise.

 

The Princess sits, closing her eyes and allowing Mary to comb her hair. Mary applies a floral oil, granting her locks not only a sweet scent but also a shiny texture. Eadgyth feels her eyelids heavy as the handmaiden runs her fingers from her scalp and through the soft curls.

 

“Should we apply some perfume?” Mary holds out the tiny bottle and Eadgyth shakes her head.

 

“No! None of them will be close enough to breathe in the scent of my skin.”  Eadgyth finishes drying her body and turns to look at Mary from over her shoulder. It's not a total mystery what happens to women in times of war and the thought makes her feel her throat tightening.

 

Mary nods and runs to the chest of clothes, “Which gown shall you wear tonight?” Eadgyth notices desolation was replaced by excitement as the young servant searches through the richly embroidered dresses, cloaks, and chemises. The Princess smiles back at her, sensing Mary might think she found her role in the crucial mission of turning the Norsemen from enemies to allies. Or maybe she is just fascinated to run her fingers over the majestic garments that will probably never adorn her body. Mary has been groomed to be silent as a gentle breeze and only speaks words of acquiescence. As much as Eadgyth is chained to the role of dutiful Princess, Mary is caged within a life of servitude

 

“I don't know. Which one would you suggest?” Eadgyth beams at her, noticing the way Mary’s eyes are shining.

 

“The purple gown!” Mary exclaims without hesitation and Eadgyth chuckles, “That one with the golden embroidery around the sleeves and neckline.”

 

“That’s a good choice, Mary!” Eadgyth grits her teeth, feigning a smile as she tries to swallow her fury at the certainty her brother won’t have to prove his value by presenting himself as an immobile and silent object. A gracious adorn to be stared at but never seen.

 

“Will you wear a veil?” Mary asks as soon as Eadgyth is dressed. She wonders if her modesty is a protection for her honor or Edmund’s pride as it’s expected from her to avoid being lusted after. Modesty is another link in the chain men use to tie women. _Shame and guilt will always be a women’s burden._

 

“Yes!” Eadgyth’s eyes water as she tries to stifle a yawn. Mary braids her hair and places the thin silk veil and gild circlet over her head.

 

They are startled by a discrete knock on the door.

 

“Sister?” his voice is hesitant and Eadgyth sighs, dreading what led his steps to her door.

 

“Come in! I’m ready for the feast.”

 

Edmund enters, hands clasped behind his back and something about the way he warily shifts closer tells Eadgyth she won’t like what he is about to say. He opens and closes his mouth several times, but no words come out.

 

Eadgyth dismisses Mary with a smile and turns to stare at her brother, eyes narrowing with suspicion. She tries to ignore the way his jaw twitches as Edmund avoids looking into her eyes. His Adam’s apple moves as Edmund gulps down and just when Eadgyth is about to ask what brought him to her chambers, he whispers, glancing at her.

 

“You look beautiful!” Eadgyth wants to laugh at how predictable Edmund has always been. She wonders if his habit of starting difficult conversations with compliments is a sign he reads her as well as she does with him.

 

“Thank you, Brother!” Her eyelids flutter as she speaks, feigning as much innocence as she can muster, “You look every inch a King yourself. I’m sure our guests will be more than pleased to forge the alliance we want.”

 

“Now that you mentioned our guests…” Edmund shifts his weight from one leg to the other and his sister cuts him off.

 

“What about them? Are they not coming anymore?” Eadgyth walks to him with long, anxious strides. She cups his face in her hands, forcing Edmund to meet her gaze.

 

“No… they are almost here by what the scouts said.”

 

“Good. We must hurry to welcome them at the gates.” Eadgyth smiles, taking his hand and heading to the door, but Edmund doesn’t move to follow her. She frowns at him from over her shoulder, recoiling her hand.

 

“You’re not coming.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

I try to pretend his words are not confusing or angering me, but I can’t help feeling like I’m being punished for something it’s beyond my control. I stare at him, inhaling despite the sensation there is a fist constricting my lungs.

 

“Why?” My voice is barely a whisper and I glance at my feet as to avoid showing my eyes brimming with unshed tears.

 

“I’m afraid for you, Sister! We know those men are savages and I fear they might not be able to control themselves…” I don’t know if my lips are trembling out of sadness of fury. Either way, I don’t want to look at Edmund.

 

“Don’t ruin everything!” I mutter under my breath, walking to my bed.

 

“Oh, Eadgyth! Don’t be difficult. I’m only trying to protect you. I’m sure you would either be bored hearing us discussing the terms of the agreement or disgusted by the manners of our guests.”

 

“Should I remember you it was _my_ idea to invite them here to discuss the terms of an agreement you claim it might make me bored?” I turn to glare at him from over my shoulder.

 

I’m stunned I dared to openly defy him with so much rage. I don’t know what he will do, but I feel the tightening in my chest loosening.

 

Edmund laughs, throwing his head back and I think I’ve never felt the urge to slap him so strongly as I feel now.

 

“See? An amicable conversation and you’re hissing at me as a rabid wolf.” Edmund smirks, walking to the door, “I trust you will stay here and enjoy the quietude you seem to need now.” He nods and closes the door, leaving me alone.

 

I lean my head against the headboard, allowing myself to cry until my mind is undisturbed to elaborate a plan. I won’t allow Edmund to push me to a corner as an easily scared puppy. He called me a wolf and I saw fear in his eyes. I’ll show him I’m as fierce as one.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not following show canon! This work is being inspired by Gesta Danorum in which Ubbe is not Aslaug's sons, being born out of wedlock from a farmer's daughter. It's said Ragnar dressed up as a woman in order to gain access to her chamber. Resulting in the conception of Ubbe.

* * *

Mary entered as soon as the King left, finding Eadgyth crying.

“I'm sorry, Princess! I'll leave you alone.” She stuttered, turning to leave.

“No, please!” Eadgyth wiped away her tears, smiling at Mary, “I don't want to be alone.”

“I can't stay!” Mary noticed the way Eadgyth's jaw was trembling and wondered what the King has said that made her confidence fade away, “I can't stay much because I must help to serve the guests.”

Eadgyth pressed her lips together, feeling embarrassed for thinking about her loneliness before their responsibilities, “Of course. I won't prevent you from performing your duty.”

“The King walked to welcome the guests at the gates. I thought you would follow him…”

Eadgyth snorted, interrupting Mary, “He forbade me to leave my room.”

She could find an excuse to justify her absence, but Eadgyth realized she was tired of the constant pretense. Mary has seen her crying and it wouldn't be difficult for her to see through the lie.

“That's not fair!” Mary covered her mouth, mortified by her indiscretion, “I'm sorry… I shouldn't have said that.”

Eadgyth walked to her and held her hand, “There's no need for apologies! You're right! Do you remember I said the world was not fair?”

“Uh huh!”

Eadgyth cupped her face in her hands, “It's our responsibility to try and make it fair as much as we can. I count on you to make sure they are well served.”

“Yes!” Mary nodded eagerly and Eadgyth smiled with pride at the courage Mary was demonstrating.

Mary turned to leave when Eadgyth whispered, “One last thing. Is there someone guarding my door or the hallway?”

Mary shook her head, noticing the way a shy smile appeared on Eadgyth's lips.

* * *

Eadgyth didn't know if the reason her brother hadn't assigned a guard to watch her was a sign that he still respected her or if Edmund believed himself persuasive enough to force her to comply.

Either way, the challenge of sneaking out of her room made her exhaustion ebb and Eadgyth thought spying on everyone would be far better than being in evidence.

She removed her veil and dressed a dark cloak that would allow her to move through poorly illuminated hallways without attracting attention.

* * *

Eadgyth couldn’t help thinking Edmund looked like a child, flanked by the Norsemen as they stepped into the dining hall. She wondered if they could see he was terrified. Edmund could barely suppress the trembling of his lips with a peal of feigned laughter as he motioned the guests to their seats.

They were not the giants the survivors of their attacks usually described, but they were for certain taller than Edmund and the idea her brother would for once feel small gave her an odd pleasure.

She gulped seeing they were wearing a leather battle attire over their clothes and wondered if they were always ready to spill blood and spread chaos as the stories told.

From her spot behind a pillar, Eadgyth could see the brothers carried themselves with pride and confidence. One of them stared at the women gathered there longer than it would be considered appropriate, but he didn’t seem to care as a crooked smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

**_Men are all the same, no matter where they were born._ **

She had to stifle her laughter as to not attract attention for herself. Pondering there was not much more to read from him, her eyes dragged over the other Norseman. She could see some similarities in their features and proud composure, but beyond the presence of a rich beard, the other warlord seemed more thoughtful.

She wondered if his eyes were as blue and merciless as the ice from their lands. He turned to look at his brother with raised brows, face a total mask of composure. They seemed to come to some sort of agreement as the bold warrior tilted his head with a shrug.

The way only his stare could command sent a chill down her spine. A thought crossed her mind, as dangerous as the two brothers looking around as wolves among the lambs.

**_That’s how a King should look like._ **

* * *

Mary approached, filling Edmund’s cup and turning to serve the guests. Eadgyth pressed her lips into a thin line to avoid laughing at the persistent lust present in the gaze Hvitserk directed at her.

He flicked his hand to beckon her over with the ale and Eadgyth saw Edmund clenching his teeth. The Princess grinned, thinking that she was right all along and watching from the shadows was far more amusing because it wouldn’t be expected of her to pretend. As long as no one noticed her presence, she could be free.

Her trance was immediately broken when Edmund raised his voice. “I believe you’re here to avenge your father. The renewed warrior, Ragnar.”

Ubbe shifted in his seat, lips twitching at the mention of their father’s name. Hvitserk nodded and waited for Edmund to proceed.

“We don’t have diplomatic bonds with Northumbria or any Kingdom in your way to King Aella.” Edmund bluntly suggested.

Eadgyth gasped, noticing how the crowd stopped murmuring and watched the trio intently. She wished her brother had taken his time before saying he had no intention to stand against the invaders. Now he seemed desperate. No longer a man with something to bargain with, but rather a beggar. A pathetic man begging to be spared of the Norsemen's wrath.

She did not miss the wicked grin the two brothers exchanged as they kept ignoring Edmund and indulging themselves in the rich feast the servants had prepared under her attentive eyes.

* * *

As the night went on, Eadgyth shifted from amused to worried. Edmund was still trying to claim the leading role in the negotiations only to be dismissed as Hvitserk beckoned Mary over to refill his cup with ale and wine.

“I think we should discuss the terms of the agreement before we get too drunk to think…” Edmund set his elbows on the table, leaning toward Hvitserk as if sharing a secret.

“It will take much more than this ale and wine to bring us to our knees,” Hvitserk smirked at Mary as she passed behind them to fetch more ale.

Ubbe snorted into his cup and Eadgyth could feel her stomach clenching at the way they were scorning her brother. There was no doubt in her mind after weeks sailing, they were relishing in everything that was served and only diminished the quality to mock Edmund.

Edmund huffed, crossing his arms over his chest while Eadgyth tried to ignore the cold stream that slid down her spine.

The Princess busied herself analyzing how differently the two brothers behaved. While Hvitserk promptly emptied his cup whenever Mary served him, Ubbe was still sipping from the first refill. Eadgyth wondered if Hvitserk wanted an excuse for Mary to approach him, or if he was truly untroubled among people that should be considered his enemies. Maybe he didn’t think himself in danger among them and Eadgyth rolled her eyes, blaming Edmund for their situation.

* * *

Mary was no longer a blushing virgin for some time now and so she knew well the barely hidden and inappropriate promises in his eyes. Through the night, the unwanted guest required her to come closer with the excuse to refill his cup, but she sensed he thirsted for something else.

She knew the danger reciprocating his attentions represented, but Mary felt her heart beating steadily against her ribs whenever the heathen bared his teeth in a wolfish grin. The notion this feared man was ignoring the King and begging for an inkling of her attention made the risk even more appealing.

Mary found herself swaying her hips provocatively or smiling at him from time to time as she leaned over to serve him.

* * *

Ubbe regretted joining Hvitserk, but he knew he couldn’t allow his brother to go alone to a possible ambush. Ubbe knew how reckless Hvitserk could be and seeing him exchanging glances with the servant girl while eating and drinking as freely as if they were among friends served only to reassure Ubbe he was right, although not pleased to be there.

Ubbe was not as articulate as Hvitserk, yet he could understand some words and feel Edmund’s fear. The advantage was theirs in the negotiation and despite the fact Hvitserk’s interest in prolonging the dinner served as a pretext to blatantly flirt, it helped to make the Saxon King uneasy.

It came as no surprise when Hvitserk excused himself as soon as Mary walked away to fetch more wine.

* * *

Mary turned and saw him standing in the doorway of the pantry, staring at her. There was no expression on his face, but his eyes were filled with desire.

“Are you attracting me here to slit my throat, little dove?” Hvitserk smiled and took a gulp of his wine, his eyes never leaving her face. Mary watched his Adam’s apple move as he swallowed the drink and imagined running her tongue over his neck until she could reach his lips and share the sweetness of the wine. Hvitserk placed the half-filled cup on the table, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

Her stomach tightened as he walked to her in long strides. She giggled and took a step back, hitting a wall. Hvitserk grunted, placing one strong arm on either side of her head, trapping her. She couldn’t look away from the green eyes that were darkening with mischief. Her legs were trembling when Hvitserk leaned down for a kiss. His breath was warm as it washed over her face, but it was nothing compared to the heat pooling between her thighs.

Mary took advantage of his distraction when Hvitserk closed his eyes for the kiss and escaped under his arms. He grunted and watched as she tossed her hair and beamed at him from over her shoulder.

Mary backed up into the kitchen table and pulled herself up to sit on top of it, swinging her legs and grinning at him.

He watched with amusement as she poured more wine and lifted the cup to her lips.

“What? I'm tired of drinking what is leftover on the bottom of the cups before washing them.”

Hvitserk felt a tingle in his spine at what he considered a challenge. He walked to her and placed his hands on her knees, “Are you playing with me?”

Mary tilted her head, frowning and he snatched the cup from her hand to finish the wine. She didn't know if her cheeks were heating because of his proximity or the wine she just swallowed.

Hvitserk emptied the cup and placed it over the table with a loud thud. The tip of his tongue slipped out and brushed over his lips as he leaned toward Mary.

Before she could stop herself, Mary was lifting her chin to welcome the kiss. Hvitserk groaned, squeezing her thighs with one hand and pulling the hair at the nape of her neck with the other. She secretly enjoyed the tingles that exploded through her core from every quick little slide of his tongue over her lips and moaned when he bit her lower lip. Hvitserk took advantage and pushed his tongue past her teeth.

Mary didn't know what to do at first because there were no kisses whenever Edmund took her. It was always rushed and uncomfortable, leaving her with the thought that there was more to feel from the coupling than his warm seed being spilled over her backside or belly when he was finished with her. Shyly, she let her tongue slid between his lips, moving ever so slightly with his.

He traced the line of her collarbone with his fingers and tried to tug the neckline of her dress down far enough to release her breasts, sighing in defeat when he couldn’t manage it. So he only grazed the peak of her breast, making her long for more before sliding his hands down her ribs and circling around her hips, pulling her to the edge of the table and forcing himself in-between her thighs.

Mary gasped against his lips when the bulge in his pants pressed to her covered core. She knew well his body was ready, and the thought she was willingly trapped made a shiver run down her spine.

Mary wondered how his tongue could be caressing hers with so much tenderness while his hands wandered through her body her with different pressures and in so many places at once.

A moment later Hvitserk was nuzzling against the side of her neck. His warm and labored breathing against her sensitive skin made Mary bring both hands to his waist, pulling him closer. Hvitserk chuckled, squeezing the flesh of her hips.

“Do you like that?” He tilted his head, searching for her eyes, but Mary didn’t know what to say. She was never asked what she enjoyed and therefore never thought about it. While it was frustrating not to be praised with words, Hvitserk found exciting being guided only by what her body had to say. There were no lies this way.

“I think you do. You love offering your neck to me, don't you? Are you not afraid?” Hvitserk grinned and leaned down to explore her neck with his mouth.

Her eyelids fluttered, and Mary groaned when he took her earlobe between his teeth.

His voice sounded like something between enraged and dominant. “This way,” he choked in a strained voice, “I wish we had more time.”

His voice sent shivers through her body and her toes curled with anticipation once he started pulling up her dress. Mary waited for him to pull down his trousers and just enter her at once, and she kept staring at the stiff bulge. For her surprise, Hvitserk had stopped, holding the hem of her dress and caressing her knee with one hand and her cheek with the other.

She has never considered men as capable of gentleness when their lust was dominating their senses and not a Northman in special. Her breath hitched in her throat when he broke the silence and slid his hand from her cheek to under her chin, lifting her face to stare into her eyes.

“Do you want this?” Mary gulped, intimidated by the way it seemed he was hesitant and starving at once.

Mary didn’t know what he wanted her to say, but she felt like complying was for the first time a choice she ached to make. Mary nodded and expected him to bend her over and slid into her, but he didn’t; a crooked smile tugged at the corner of his lip instead.

They were both breathing heavily, chests rising and falling with the same anticipation warriors faced their opponents not only to discover their weaknesses but also to calculate who would make the first move.

**_What would it be like to be the prize he fights for?_ **

The thought made Mary be the first to break eye contact. She knew the Norsemen were there to conquer more than a woman to warm their beds. They were there to fight for glory, land, gold, and revenge.

_**He wouldn’t fight over an ordinary servant.** _

Her dilating eyes trailed down to watch the way his chest rose and fell. Mary hasn’t seen scars on his face and she had the feeling that he didn't lose many battles. She wondered how many scars his skin probably carried and wished she had more time to explore his body with her fingers.

He murmured something under his breath and Mary stared up. Hvitserk smiled, welcoming and reassuring, bringing his face closer to hers, gently tracing his fingers down her cheek.

Hvitserk brought his lips back down toward her but avoided her mouth to instead push her jaw aside with his nose and press himself to the side of her neck. His rapid exhale against the sensitive skin there made her shudder.

There was still something darker behind his eyes, but Mary couldn’t care less. Something inside her thirsted for the danger this man brought to her life. At least she would have stories to tell her children.

**_Maybe I will have to hide some details from them._ **

A triumphant giggle burst from her chest. She turned her face up to see a matching grin on Hvitserk’s face.

“I hope it’s a satisfied giggle,” Hvitserk smirked.

The amusement was starting to fade into something else as they eyed each other from only inches apart. This time, Hvitserk was the first to break and started lifting her dress in a rush. Mary stared at the door one last time and wrapped her arms and legs around him, so Hvitserk could slide the dress up to her waist. He squeezed and pinched the tender flesh of her thighs and gave one of her buttocks a loud smack.

She could feel where their ribs were pressed together that the desperate thumping in her chest matched his and Mary felt powerful for the first time in her life. He sat her down on the edge of the table once more and Mary couldn't deny the heat of his lips enveloping one of her sensitive nipples even through the fabric of her dress as he dragged his teeth softly over her.

Her heart was beating not like a trapped animal against the bars of its cage but as a bird eager to spread its wings after years of captivity.

He slowly kissed and bit his way down her body, his hands squeezing every inch of flesh until he was on his knees, between her legs. Blood was flowing to her cheeks when he smirked and lowered his head, pressing a gentle kiss to her inner thigh.

“No!” Mary whimpered, and guilt immediately washed over at the sight of the disappointment on his face.

“No?” Hvitserk tilted his head, staring at her with a frown.

“We don’t have time.” Mary tried to conceal her embarrassment at the possibility of this stranger’s tongue swirling and rubbing between her most intimate folds.

“That’s true.” He rose to his feet and Mary sighed, relieved that her stratagem seemed to have worked.

Hvitserk let his hands slide to caress the soft nape of her neck and Mary gasped overwhelmed by the contrast between the determination in his voice and the gentleness of his touch.

He leaned in to kiss the tip of her nose, “I hope one day you’ll allow me to drink from you.”

He pulled away to watch her reaction to the delicious threat. Her eyelids fluttered as Mary tried to distract herself running her fingers over an almost imperceptible scar on his right cheek. Hvitserk stared at her parted lips and couldn’t hold back anymore.

“Are you ready?” Hvitserk asked, parting her folds with his fingers and making Mary arch her back.

“Yes.” A pleased rumble emanated from her chest and once more his tongue pressed into her mouth boldly. Mary allowed her hand to be as audacious as his, sliding over his studded leather armor to dive inside his trousers. She thought it was unfair she was the only one exposed.

Hvitserk droned into her mouth when she found his cock, closing her finger around the tip before she swiftly slid her palm to the base. She gave him only a few firm strokes before Hvitserk paused to eagerly pull his trousers down past his ass. He chuckled when Mary tried to help him with her feet and hands.

The predatory gaze returned when Hvitserk pulled her face back. The same voracity with which he had watched her through the feast. His erection was bumping insistently against her thigh as he pressed his body more insistently against her. Mary wanted to peek at his cock but was enthralled by his moist green eyes. She could only moan and curl her toes when his hand slipped down and Hvitserk ran his fingers up and down her slit, spreading her open for him and stroking the small nub of flesh above her entrance.

“I won’t hurt you,” Hvitserk whispered against her lips.

“I’m not a virgin anymore,” Mary admitted, lifting her chin as if challenged by the assumption he had power to harm her and yet she felt like an inexperienced maiden again. She didn’t know what he expected her to do and how savagely he could claim her, and so Mary grabbed hold of the edge of the table, determined to endure whatever he had planned for her.

His blunt tip was soon prodding at her entrance and Hvitserk slid into her in a few shallow thrusts. Once Mary was accustomed enough to the intrusion, she began timidly moving her hips against his, trying to entice Hvitserk to go deeper.

He hissed in her ear, “You want to feel more of me inside you, huh?”

Mary puffed, moving both hands to his ass to urge him on.

“That is not good enough, _Mín fagr_.” Hvitserk scolded, driving his hips roughly into hers, showing Mary how hard and thick he was.

“Is this what you want?” Hvitserk grasped her buttocks with both hands pulling her to the edge of the table.

Mary sneered, crossing her ankles behind him and holding onto the edge of the table for leverage as she rose her hips to drive him deep into her.

“Mm, you like being taken like this, don’t you?” he rasped lowly, pulling back a little and thrusting back in until his balls slapped against her ass. She threw her head back, closing her eyes and crying out in what Hvitserk could never mistake for pain.

She was oblivious to the fascination with which he peered at her, but the way he growled was the assurance he was savoring the moment as much as Mary.

He leaned in to kiss her throat, moving his lips to her jaw and soon Hvitserk was nibbling her earlobe.

Mary moved her pelvis with his just as eagerly as he did, her whole body growing aflame every time he made his way into her cunt. The continuous friction of his member made her more and more sensitive. There was something else building in her though, a powerful tickling which took root in the rubbing of her nub against his groin and of which she desperately wanted more. Mary had experienced it on other occasions before, when Edmund shoved himself into her at a different angle or when she bathed, but she had never explored this sensation further. Today, however, it was too intense for her to simply allow it to slip through her fingers like sand.

Still unsure of how to proceed, Mary did as her instincts told her and rolled her hips in ampler motions that allowed her to press her nub more firmly against Hvitserk with each of his powerful thrusts. As she did, Mary could glimpse, though from afar, bliss stronger than anything she had ever experienced, and she whined as much from the yearning she had for it as from the frustration her inability to dive fully into it woke in her. She didn’t care if anyone would listen to her cries or the smacking of skin on skin echoing through the empty corridors.

“So fiery,” Hvitserk panted into her ear, “As a Valkyrie riding to choose the slain.” His voice was hoarse, and Mary felt herself clenching around him at what she supposed was praise.

With that, Hvitserk brought his hand just above where they were joined and brushed his thumb over her slippery folds. Mary was briefly startled, but soon the contact of his calloused fingers on her clit was too perfect for her to keep her mind on anything that might prevent her from fully savoring his touch.

Resuming his thrusts, he kissed her chin before coaxing his tongue into her mouth. Mary unintentionally almost bit at his lower lip, overwhelmed by the increase of her pleasure. He rumbled at that, but she could tell he hadn’t minded.

With his thumb still stroking that sensitive spot of hers, Mary only had to rock her hips very faintly to increase the tickling in her belly and transform the tantalizing glimpse of ecstasy into a full view of what might lay ahead if they could keep moving in unison. Sliding her hands to his waist, she pushed her middle against him to add even more force to his ministration.

Hvitserk stopped stirring his thumb to give her full control over the caress, although he never ceased ravishing her, the lascivious gasps and cries Mary let out encouraging him to grow more and more merciless as he shoved his manhood in and out of her.

Hvitserk was breathing so loudly into her neck Mary could almost believe he had turned into one the beasts the tales told the Norsemen were able to, ready to bury the fangs into her throat. The incessant creaks of the table made her think, for a moment, she would fall. But her thoughts shifted to her quest once more. The tension in her core evolved into liquid fire, pulsating like a heartbeat and turning into something overwhelming and primal. She clutched her hands over his steel-solid shoulders and closed her thighs around his waist, while Hvitserk kept grinding his pelvis against hers with increased speed and strength.

At one point though, a shock passed through her and Mary tensed, opening her eyes at once. Having swelled for too long, the point of tension in her core suddenly imploded in the most exquisite manner possible making her whole body tremble and her head spin as in the rare occasions she could drink wine. The mundane reality of her life was transformed into total ecstasy. Her eyes rolled back, and Mary lost control over herself, groaning so loudly Hvitserk was sure anyone passing by the pantry could hear. Each of her muscles clenched and unclenched, her nails digging deep into his neck.

Hvitserk noticed her discomfort as the pleasure started to fade and his groin was brushing over her very sensitive clit. He stopped, half sheathed in her and laid her on the table, holding onto her waist.

“So beautiful,” Hvitserk mused to himself but noticed the shy smile on her lips.

Mary doubted she looked beautiful with her skin glistening with sweat and hair hanging half out of its plait, but she sensed he was not deceiving her when she finally managed to open her eyes and look up at him. Hvitserk was caressing her waist with his thumbs and waiting patiently for Mary to recover from the tingling that still crawled over her skin.

“You didn’t…”

“But you certainly did, huh?” Hvitserk pinched one of her buttocks and Mary gasped.

“I’m ready,” Mary confessed, lowering her hands from his shoulders to trail them over his brawny torso.

“Are you sure?” Hvitserk smirked, dazzled by the way her chest rose and fell, still too fast.

“If you don’t want to…” Mary sputtered in fury and was about to curse him when he plunged his cock inside her.

“Look at you.” Hvitserk hissed through gritted teeth, caressing her bottom lip with his thumb.

Although her features tensed with each of his deep shoves, she kept her thighs wide open for him and back arched like a bow. The next thing Mary knew, his mouth was crashing over hers and he was kissing her avidly. As their lips and tongues moved together, Hvitserk bucked his hips against hers to fully impale her, the gesture so abrupt that Mary yelped in his mouth. She didn’t mind it though. In fact, after the turmoil she had just experienced, her insides were so receptive that with each of his stabs in her, he was reviving some of her previous bliss.

With his hands on her hips, Hvitserk pulled her toward him and plunged his member into her cleft in one deep thrust. She was so wet and his shaft so hard that he didn’t even need to guide it with his hand. It entered right through, the sharp sensation it elicited inducing a long, throaty gasp from Mary.

Without missing a beat, Hvitserk slid his cock in and out of her at a frantic rhythm that announced he was determined to find his release. More savagely than ever, he pounded himself into her.

His hands closed stiffly around her hips as he spilled himself in her depths. One more hushed curse escaped his lips before Hvitserk allowed himself to fall heavily over her breasts and closing his eyes while Mary tenderly brushed her fingers through his hair.

* * *

Eadgyth noticed Mary hadn’t returned from the pantry and worried they ran out of food and ale for the feast. Her throat was tightening at the idea she failed to calculate a judicious amount of supplies for the feast without compromising the food stored for Winter. She shuddered at the prospect of demanding even more of the farmers as they would certainly be forced to contribute more to feed the enemy's army.

Eadgyth knew it was not fair to require that much of people who depended on the fickle seasons to survive and feed their families.

**_It’s the only way._ **

The Princess heard a raspy voice, followed by a prolonged moan as she approached the door. The sounds were growing louder and now she could distinguish Mary’s trembling voice.

“If you…”

Eadgyth was now sure Mary was not alone, but who could be there since all the other servants were still on the dining hall?

She peered inside the room through the narrow gap in the doorway and felt her mouth immediately dry at the sight of the Norseman grinding himself between Mary’s legs.

She swallowed and tried to command her legs to move. She had to do something, but what? Eadgyth exhaled, trying to collect herself and decide if she should scream for the invader to stop defiling her servant or if she should run to the hall and summon the guards.

**_Is it possible?_ **

After the initial shock, Eadgyth was able to analyze the scene unfolding before her. She saw how Mary was throwing her head back, with a faint smile on her lips and it was something she has never witnessed in the few times she had caught Mary in Edmund’s bed. This man was not holding her wrists or fighting Mary to keep her legs open. The groans and whimpers that left her trembling lips might denounce Mary was in pain, but Eadgyth couldn’t understand why she would wrap her arms around his waist to pull him closer if he was hurting her.

**_How can something this big fit into her?_** Eadgyth wondered, narrowing her eyes.

The obscene and animalistic sounds of their bodies moving together filled her ears and while her cheeks were heating up, Eadgyth felt a shiver running down her spine. Two contrasting sensations to match the confusion in her mind.

His face contorted, and the warrior uttered some sort of throaty growl, before resuming rocking his hips less frantically. After a few additional desperate thrusts, he sheathed himself to the hilt, stiffened and collapsed over Mary, crushing her under his weight.

Eadgyth frowned in disbelief when Mary didn’t try to push him away, running her fingers through his hair affectionately instead. She didn’t have time to process the events she witnessed though. Heavy footsteps could be heard at the end of the hallway and she hid in a corner, horrified with the idea she had just witnessed something forbidden to her eyes.

The Princess brought one hand to her mouth, afraid her breathing would reveal her hidden spot. However, curiosity dominated her and Eadgyth peeked at the hallway just when Ubbe opened the door of the pantry with a loud crack.

**_They are all the same._** Eadgyth couldn’t understand why rage washed over her, but she was ready to rush to the hall and alert her brother there could be no treat with the Norsemen.

She stopped in her tracks when the Ubbe barked something in a language Eadgyth couldn’t understand. She could listen to the other man murmuring, apparently amused.

Mary’s voice rose as the three of them stepped into the hall, “It was my choice. Now it’s about time I go back to the hall or they will be suspicious.”

Eadgyth saw the way Ubbe’s lips twitched, “No good, brother.” He rasped flatly, something akin to scorn in his gravelly voice.

The tone of his voice and the fact he disapproved his brother’s actions made something flutter in her stomach and Eadgyth smiled, with the hope the possibility of a treat was not ruined.

* * *

Mary wiped the sweat from her face and did her best to tame her disheveled hair in order to not raise suspicion, but when she entered the hall it was like everyone’s eyes were on her. She didn’t know if she was being paranoid or if they knew about the delicious ache between her thighs.

Mary asked herself if they could have by any chance guessed what truly went on between her and the foreigner.

**_Can they smell his scent on my skin?_ **

At first, the suspicion people were whispering about her made her ashamed, but soon Mary lifted her chin determined to face the disdain if it came. People considered her already soiled by the King. She wouldn’t allow them to do judge her because _this time_ it was her choice. Considering the way the few noblewomen were gazing at the two Vikings, Mary thought they were more than intrigued.

* * *

“We are ready to negotiate,” Hvitserk announced, beaming as he sat by Edmund’s side.

“At last.” Edmund snapped.

“My brother and I agreed that it’s not wise to march with Winter almost here.” Hvitserk licked his lips, lifting his cup so Mary could pour wine, “We would like to enjoy a little more of your hospitality during the Winter.”

Edmund dismissed Mary with a wave of his hand, “I’ll have to ask my sister about our Winter supplies, but I don’t think it would be a problem as long as you and your men remain respectful and alert that your war is not with us.”

Ubbe nodded, raising his cup. “Horses and food.”

“You mean supplies?” Edmund grimaced and Ubbe hated his condescending tone.

“Supplies,” Ubbe repeated, nostrils flaring in response before he brought the cup of wine to his lips.

For a moment, he appeared so irate that Edmund gulped, regretting his sarcasm.

* * *

Hvitserk thought no one had noticed his flirtation with Mary, but Ubbe watched with a combination of amusement, worry and discomfort as his brother caressed her thighs whenever she approached to refill his cup.

“No one cares about who a servant allows between her thighs.” Hvitserk laughed, tapping Ubbe's shoulder.

“Maybe. But you could have ruined the chance of an agreement if you were caught. Do you think the King would have agreed to give us shelter if he thought we wouldn't be able to keep our pricks inside of our trousers?” Ubbe slapped his brother's hand away and Hvitserk frowned.

“Why should we beg for shelter when we can just take his kingdom? They are clearly afraid of us. It would be easy.”

“I suppose you think it would be as easy as emptying yourself inside of that maiden without any thought if she could grow heavy with your child, huh?” Ubbe felt his jaw clenching and walked to the table to fetch a cup of mead.

“Oh! Now I see what this is really about.” Hvitserk shifted his weight from one leg to the other as a wave of guilt washed over him, “You're as much my brother as Ivar and the others.”

“It was not always like that and you know it, but I'm not talking about how I came to be.” Ubbe tried to calm himself and remember Hvitserk was not to blame for what Ragnar did to his mother, but the idea his brother didn't care about the consequences of a moment of pleasure would always be something corrosive in their relationship.

“We could take his Kingdom by force. You're right! But why should we risk the lives of our men in the attempt? It's much more advantageous that we march to Mercia and Northumbria with our army unscathed.”

“I suppose there's nothing to do with a certain Princess.” Hvitserk chuckled and Ubbe felt the blood rushing to his face.

* * *

Ubbe tilted his head, a faint smile curling his lips as he surveyed her face for any sign of rebellion.

“Can I have my dagger back?” Eadgyth taunted, squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin in defiance. Ubbe could hardly contain his laughter when she lifted her hands, expecting him to return her blade.

“You can keep it then. Shall we?” Eadgyth shrugged, walking past him to mount on his horse.

“What do we do to him, Ubbe?” Leif motioned with his head to the coachman.

“Let him go to her brother. I want him to stay awake at night, knowing what is coming for him.” Ubbe smirked and turned to follow the Princess, "Don't forget the silver and gold. It was supposed to be her dowry."

Despite her attempt to feign comfort, Ubbe could see her knuckles whitening as she clenched her hands on the reins. Her eyes followed his every step warily and Eadgyth’s body stiffened when Ubbe lifted his foot onto the stirrups of his saddle and swung up onto the horse behind her.

Anger and humiliation burned through her when his arms wrapped around her waist and his big hand covered hers to reclaim the control of the reins. She resisted at first, but when he rubbed his calloused thumb over her knuckles, Eadgyth decided it would be better if she allowed him to control the horse.

Eadgyth only noticed she was pouting when Ubbe chuckled, chest vibrating against her back. It was the first time she ever heard him laugh, even though it was a subdued one. Eventually, he looked down at her, and finding her scowl, Ubbe merely smiled. It appeared genuine, eyes lit up as he leaned closer, almost like he was waiting for some reaction.

Seeing Eadgyth was still grimacing at him, Ubbe slurred something in his language and kicked the horse forward, his hips pressing onto her lower back and causing her stomach to tighten. The air whistled in her ears as they galloped, and she tried to hold onto the saddle as tightly as she could. She could feel the bold strength of his legs and arms around her and tried to move forward and away from his heat.

“Cease, woman.” Ubbe rasped, his voice so raw, she barely recognized it.

**_What will he do to me?_ **


End file.
